The Dragon of Lanthar
by Zaydee Kaine
Summary: This is a "Once Upon a Time" fic, though there's been a twist in Belle and Mr. Gold's story. This is a bad story, not my normal genre, so I recommend you don't read it. But if you dare to, it has the same basic characters, all the romance, but with a little less magic and a little more drama (yes it is possible).
1. Chapter 1

The rain was pouring down on papercut houses and the muddy ground. Though the trees were thick in this part of Maine, they provided little shelter against the cold and hard raindrops. A girl, sopping wet and chilled to the bone beat the knocker on the door three times.

Mr. Gold looked up, kettle in hand as he had just been about to fill it with water from the tap to make his evening tea. Nobody was supposed to be coming by tonight, or atleast nobody that he knew of.

And the girl on the door stood trembling in a sleeveless pink tank top and dirty jeans that even the rain couldn't get the film off of. Her black boots had holes in them from wearing them nearly 24/7; she never took her shoes off when sleeping on the streets for somebody might steal them. She had her arms semi-crossed as she shivered uncontrollably on the doorstep, the world a fog and becoming worse with every second it seemed. And in her left hand she held a small piece of paper, clenching it so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Mr. Gold opened the door to see her pale face peeking through wet hair that fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were downcast but he recognized her instantly, his hand trembling as he held his cane and felt his bad knee go weak. But he held himself strong on his two feet as he whispered her name, "Belle."

It seemed to trigger something in her, though her memories were still gone. She rose her gaze to look at him and as she did Mr. Gold stepped out of his home to embrace her, the only woman he had ever loved. He felt her trembling against him, not moving her arms to embrace him back. Was she still mad or was she as stunned as he? He let her go as his eyes began to water, brow furrowed as he looked down to see her handing him the piece of paper in her hand.

He caught her eye again before taking the paper and unfolding it. It simply read, "If found, return to Mr. Gold, Storybrook MI."


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Gold's antique shop sat at the end of the row of stores in the center of town. The center of town consisted of only a dozen stores, all of which were owned and run by the locals with a large clocktown atop the library at the center of the shops. The only streetlight in town was also located here. There was a good 50 yards betwen Mr. Golds antique shop and the ice cream parlor that was connected to the general store, and Gold liked it that way. He also owned the land behind his store and off in to the woods where there were no other shops. He had bought the property and build a lavish six room mansion behind his store.

He was a man of only about fourty years of age, yet he acted older mostly as a way to keep up a wall between himself and others. He walked with a limp and a cane, claiming he had hurt his left knee in war. For the most part Mr. Gold kept to himself, though he was a hard bargainer for any who would make a deal with him. His antique shop was technically a pawn shop where people sold or bartered their wares, and it was well known that if you did not know the price of the item you were selling, you were sure to lose out on the deal. Mr. Gold was good at fixing up anything and everything that was old and antique from porcelain to watches to ruby encrused gold rings and vintage wooden jewelry boxes.

On the other side of town, as far east as you could get from the center of town was the side of town that most tried to get out of it but were unsuccessful. It was like trying to dig in order to get out of a hole. The homes were falling apart at some places, once quaint small homes with fireplaces made of locally dug-up stone now had pieces falling from the mortar to lay unotouched in the weeds below. Many of the homes had not seen a fresh can of paint put on them since they were built in the 30's, with once-white picket fences knocked down and left in the mud to rot and decay. The streets were dirty and the children were mean. This was where Belle grew up with her single father who worked two jobs and sometimes lost his temper, especially when he drank. But he always made sure to give her money for food, books or school field trips. She was blessed with her mothers sweetness but even that couldn't prevent her father from striking her when he was in a rage, though he never used anything more than the back side of his hand. And now Belle was 22 and still under her fathers roof, but she was aching to leave.

"So what're you gonna do, run away?"

"That's exactly what I'll do!" she screamed at David, the slightly overweight fourty-four year old who had the barber use a razor on his head so he was bald all over instead of just on the crown of his skull.

"And where will you go huh?!" he yelled at his daughter as she stormed through the small two-bedroom house, grabbing up her jacket and pushing open the door to her room.

"Anywhere that's not here!" She grabbed her suitcase and barged past her father; Belle was never one with a temper but she had lost her last wit when her father had struck her only moments before for buying some apples and carrots at the grocery store, not "real food."

"You've already had your suitcase packed?" the sight of this broke his heart as David felt his anger melt away and it was promptly replaced with a sense of dread at losing his only child.

"Of course I have," she grabbed her messenger bag purse off the kitchen table and slung it over her shoulder, pushing open the screen door though it was more for privacy since half the top of the screen was falling out, allowing all the bugs in the summer to get in to the house.

"Don't, Belle, don't do this" came her fathers weak calls as she carried her small hard suitcase down the porch steps and out to the sidewalk where she began to walk up the tiny hill as quickly as she could.

"Please Belle, come back, I promise it'll be better" he shouted as he ran after her. The few children playing in the vacant lot and the two girls who were smoking their mothers' cigaretes on her front porch while she was out doing anything but working watched the father and daughter.

"That's what you always say when I threaten to leave. Well now I'm really doing it dad!" David stopped walking afte his daughter, his face saddened,

"Belle, please don't do this!" he called out, but she kept walking in her black mary-janes as fast as she could. She wasn't even sure where she would go and darkness was approaching.

* * *

Only the desperate went in to Mr. Gold's shop. Or atleast that was the understanding. And because of this, not only the desperate for cash but the desperate for information came in to Gold's shop. People would vent their frustration as they tried to hash out a deal for old rings or a fancy photo frame that used to house a picture of some long-since-dead family member. Then others would come and ask for advice, of which Mr. Gold had plenty since he always seemed to know exactly what people's situations were. However, he also dealt in less than savory wares such as potions, magical blades and dragons teeth, though the veil of the honest antique shop hid this from thsoe that need not know.

One day several years prior to Belle's prompt leaving of her fathers home, she had stepped foot in Gold's shop. She was all of 16 and when she told the boys that she had never been in the shop, they dared her. They jeered at her and teased Belle and it only took a few seconds of this for Belle to go to the shop. She was usually not prone to their words for they were empty and only revealed the spite and hatred that they were treated with by their own parents. So when she went to the shop for the first time and heard the bell ring as the door opened, it was not only because she was dared but because she was also half curious.

What greeted her was a warm shop flooded with dull light from a small electric chandelier hanging at the center of the ceiling and several other electric candelabras that were inset in to the walls. The walls were covered with maroon wallpaper, however this could only barely be seen on the wall opposite the door since the wall was covered with portraits, or wall art and Belle knew she was instantly in love. The sign on he door had said "open" and yet nobody seemed to be behind the counters. It didn't matter, Belle figured a look in the glass from the customer side would be okay.

So she stepped up to the counter and looked down through the freshly wiped-down glass case at all the things that spoke of another time when things were so much different from now. They spoke of little children playing with a set of russian nesting dolls, intricately painted with the telltale signs of a babushka. Or there was the beautiful diamond set in gold on a thin chain to be worn as a necklace; it was probably more expensive than Belle figured she would make in several years once she graduated.

"Can I help you?" She jumped and stood up straight, seeing Mr. Gold emerging from the back room at a slow pace, eyes unjudging yet curious as to why the 16 year old was in his shop.

"Oh, no, I just... just came in to look."

"Ah, well, take your time then," he gave her a kind smile. She wasn't sure what all the fuss was about when it came to him; so far he'd been courteous. Belle supposed he had an uneasy sense about him, but she could see right through that wall. But she still felt as though she were interupting something so she took a step back,

"No, I'm d-done, thank you," and she quickly made her way out of the shop, the bell signaling her exit ringing above her. Outside, the boys had run off in a fit of laughter while she was in the shop so they were nowhere to be seen, so Belle made her way back home. The bitter cold that signaled winter was a shock after being in the warm store that smelled slightly of dust and vanilla. Belle knew her home woudln't be any warmer than outside, though it would keep the wind off her face.

Mr. Gold stood here for a moment before he turned to go to the back room, a litle bit perplexed as to the random girl who had entered his shop. But he had no time to ponder that, for he had to assess the authenticity of a faceless voodoo doll; he had to make sure it would work but first he needed a subject. Perhaps the dishboy at Granny's restaurant; a small poke in the arm and a week out of work wouldn't do him too much harm.

Belle didn't return to the shop for several months and when she did, it was snowing out. She was cold at home on a Saturday, and wanted to go somewhere quiet. The public library was always noisy on the weekend, but especially when the wind was blowing snow so hard it made your cheeks raw. So she returned to Mr. Gold's antique shop, making sure not to tell anybody. It didn't occur ot the teen until she stood on the freshly polished wood floor that she was probably going to drip melting snow over everything. But when she entered the one-room shop andheard the bell ring and felt the warmth of the shop followed by the quiet hum of electricity behind the walls and the scratching of a pen, she felt calmer. Mr. Gold looked up from writing in a black leather bound book that had yellowing pages. He saw the girl and couldn't help but to raise his eyebrows.

"Nice to see you again Ms. Swift."

Belle couldn' help but smile and then follow his eyes which were now looking at he small drops of water falling on his floor.

"Oh I, I'm sorry, I can just wipe that up," she took a few steps towards Mr. Gold and he amusedly shook his head.

"No, it's fine,"

"Are, are you sure cause I can ju-"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Belle felt bad and a litle out of breath, she hadnt realized how fast she was walking, or perhaps she was just nervous; she always breathed heavier when nervous. "You know Ms. Swift, a curious teen is indeed a curious thing. What can I help you with today?"

He didn't wan to scare her off, but if all she was going to do was drip on his floor, he was going to have to get her to leave because he had other business to attend to.

"Oh I just wanted to look, if thats, if thats alright?"

"That's perfectly fine," he watched her as she took off her gloves and approached the counter to the left where he kept crystals and gems, as well as old spoons; the kind for stirring tea, decorationa, and absinthe. He followed her eyes and went over to where she was looking.

"When is your birthday?"

"Pardon?" she looked up,

"Your birthday, when is it?"

"August."

"What date?"

"The fourtheenth... why?" she furrowed her brow, wondering what he was getting at.

"A Leo hmm?" he questioned and she nodded her head. Gold reached under the glass and pulled out a small black onyx stone, handing it to her, "This is an onyx stone, some claim its the birth stone for Leo's."

She turned the black stone over in her fingers, "I didn't know the astrological signs had different birthstones."

"Well, there's some speculation since all cultures have different stones for each sign. But this particular stone," Belle handed it back to him, "comes from India. The man I got it from said it was from one of the monarchs who ruled in the time of Nizams of Hyderabad."

Belle nodded, a sarcastic smile on her face, "Wow, you sure know a lot about stones."

Mr. Gold put the stone back in its place in the glass case and had a knowing smile on his face. "I just like to know a lot about what I have in my shop."

"Well I think you just like to show off," she quipped, and Gold could detect the friendly sarcasm in her voice,

He was silent for a few seconds before he nodded in agreement, "Just a little."

Belle visited only a handfull of times more before she graduated high school. She enjoyed her time with Mr. Gold; he was always teaching her new things about the world and she knew when she grew up she wanted to travel and see the world.


	3. Chapter 3

The cup of tea was warm in her hands as she blew gently on the herbal mix, trying to keep her hands as steady as possible so she wouldn't spill a drop on this strangers very elegant and very white rug. Mr. Gold had placed a blanket around her shivering frame and sat her infront of the fire that was burning in the living room fireplace, a hearth which was adorned by a gigantic, hand carved mantle that matched the elegance of everything else in his six-bedroom home. Gold poured out some tea for himself, a simple brew of black tea leaves that were specifically non caffeinated, though the caffeine wouldn't normally keep him up anyways. He looked at the girl who had run away nearly two years prior, the girl who he had given up hope of ever seeing again after the first several months. But now here she sat, completely oblivious to the life they had had together.

"So you can't remember anything?" he inquired as he sat down in one of the armchairs, cane resting against the side of it. The girl shook her head, a few wet drops from her hair making their way in to her tea but she didn't care. As soon as she had seen the man at his door, the fog that had covered her eyes for what seemed like a lifetime had cleared up. She could see the room clearly now and would most likely be able to read again; before, she had been incapable of such an easy things because the words became scrambled.

"I don't remember this town, or where I've been. I just... remember being dropped off, down the road."

"Dropped off?"

"Mmhmm, in a car. And being told to walk in a direction that led me here."

They sipped tea in silence and Gold wondered if it was Ichabod, always eager to help yet keep himself out of the limelight. He watched Belle's fingers gently touch the chip of the cup she was sipping from; he had hoped it would bring back some memory but so far there was nothing no matter how softly she rested her finger against the porcelain.

"It's nice to finally know my name. I mean, my real name."

"What did you go by before?"

She shrugged, "I liked the name Lacey." She let out a heavy sigh and continued, "I mean everything was... was a fog. The whole time, I feel like those two months-"

"Two years."

"Pardon?" she said astonished, eyes widening and she put down the cup of tea, not wanting to drop it.

"You thought you were gone for two months?"

"Two... I... yes. Two months," she was completely flustered at the thought, since she had known two months was already long enough.

"What made you think it was two months?" Gold inquired, watching the shock on Belles face.

"It was..." she paused, thinking. Why had she thought it was two months? Something in her brain had told her that; why had such a long absence seemed like two months? "I, I don't know." She put her head down in her hands, wishing the memories would come back now.

"It'll be alright," he tried to comfort her, feeling her pain himself. "All you need is some rest, and time."

Belle looked over at Gold with tears in her eyes and sniffled, nodding her head, "Sleep would be good right about now."

"Here, let me show you to a room," Gold stood up and the exhausted Belle followed. She found some clean pajamas in the botom drawer of the dresser, not knowing they were hers and that Gold had kept them in the bedroom she had rented from him so many years ago, incase she ever returned.

Four days passed, and Belle slept through all of them. She went to bed and slept and slept, like she hadn't slept in years. On the first morning, Mr. Gold went upstairs at around noon to see if Belle was awake. He knocked on the door though it was left ajar, and when he heard no response he pushed open the door slightly more.

"Belle?"

Belle was awake, but only halfway and his voice roused her more. She made a small noise of acknowledgement and rolled over, eyes still closed.

"Would, would you like me to bring you something to eat?"

"Mmhmm" was her response, and as he closed the door, she fell back asleep. Mr. Gold made her some tomato soup and grilled cheese, but when he brought it upstairs, Belle was deep asleep. He left it on the bedside table, and when he came upstairs again to check on her as the sun was going down, he found she had eaten the food sometime when he was out doing business. This was how it went for several days.

Mr. Gold also called her father, Mayor Regina and Sheriff Swan on that first morning. They each stopped by to see her, but whenever they went upstairs to question her, Belle was of course asleep.

The fourth evening since Belle had come back was a clear night; the first break in the spring clouds that had brought rain. Mr. Gold lay in his bedroom at the end of the hall, draped in soft brown sheets underneath a comforter that was brown and beige. Simple yet the sheets were very pricey egyptian cotton. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling as he thought about things. He was usually good at leaving work at work, but Jeremiah had decided at the last minute not to buy an ipswitch candle, which really bothered Gold since it would have ensured that Marlene saw what a traitor he was. Ever since Belle had arrived, Gold had had trouble turning his brain off.

Belle was down the hall, having a nightmare. And then she awoke, but she was not aware of it yet. And when she opened her eyes, her head was slightly tilted to the side and she saw the demons in her nightmare through barely opened eyes and a cloudy mind that had been in a deep sleep until the nightmare occurred. As quickly as her sore and exhaused body could, she reached over and flicked on the lamp, breath suddenly coming heavy. She couldn't even look through her hair as the light flooded her room, feeling its artificial warmth on her. After a second or two she looked up and around the room to find she was alone. It was just her, still in bed. But that nightmare had been so real. She couldn't lay there, not in this room, not where it had all occurred.

Belle got up and slid her robe on. She couldn't stay in this room. Belle went to the bedroom door and opened it in to the silent hallway. The polished wood was cold under her feet as she made her way to Mr. Gold's room. That was when he heard her footprints and turned his head to look at the large oak door that was shut. He'd left it unlocked just incase. But her footsteps stopped outside her door as Belle felt her eyes warm as they brimmed with tears, feeling like the demons were following her. She stared at the door handle, pondering going in to see if he was awake. She wanted comfort and didn't want to be alone anymore, but she also didn't want to barge in after he had taken her in without question.

She let out a trembled sigh and turned around, making her way more quietly down the hall and down the staircase, leaving the light on in her room. It seemed liked a vast cavern now, like a void had been opened when she had awoken leaving an empty space floating around her ceiling. Belle wanted some tea that Mr. Gold had brought up to her while she was sleeping, but once in the kitchen, she had no idea how to start. Where was the tea at? She felt bad rifling through his cupboards so she just sat at the island in the kitchen under the flourescent lights, resting her palms flat on the cold marble.

Meanwhile upstairs Mr. Gold had gotten up and put on his robe and grabbed his cane. He would see if Belle was still awake since she had come to his door, and would see if she needed anything. He was trying not to crowd her, trying not to push his way in to her heart. Gold opened the door silently and saw the light on in her room as well as the light on downstairs. He walked over and peeked inside her bedroom; seeing that her cream-colored sheets were empty, he decided to head downstairs. She heard him on the stairs first before he spoke her name, "Belle?"

She let out a sigh, looking up, "Yes? I'm in here" came her solemn voice.

Mr. Gold had wished to see her sitting in the kitchen for so long, to see those long brown sresses draped over delicate shoulders in his home. And yet he hadn't imagined it would be like this, in the middle of the night when she was woken from sleep.

"Are you alright, Belle?" He came around to her side of the counter and put a hand on her shoulder as he said this.

Belle nodded her head and said unconvincingly, "I'm fine." She moved her hands to her lap, not looking at Gold.

"You don't sound like you're fine."

After a short pause, Belle spoke quietly, "I had a nightmare."

"Oh? What kind of nightmare?"

Belle again let a short pause fall between them before she spoke up and began to tell her tale.

"I was... I was lying in that bed, in my dream. And there were these... things, these creatures. I hate to say light and dark, because they weren't that black and white but they were trying to convince me to come to their sides. And, and the dark was over on this side," she motioned to the right, "and the lighter side I guess was over here," she motioned to the left as Mr. Gold began to gently rub her back.

"And I want to say they were like angels and demons but, but they weren't demons, they were just... not good, and the other ones were not angels but they were nicer. But they weren't trying very hard to convince me, I guess to go with them. They were up in the ceiling, and both sides were getting closer to me, closer to touching me and then I woke up and..." her eyes welled with tears, "And I was lying in that same bed, where I'd just had the nightmare and I just couldn't stay in that bed with those things that had just been there." She was chillingly still as she blinked and let tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

"Oh Belle," Gold sighed sadly, and couldn't help his actions when he pulled her in to a comforting hug. And she hugged him back, gripping his robe. This hug felt good, it felt like she had done this thousands of times before. But Belle only held the hug for a second or two before pulling away and wiping at her tears.

Mr. Gold was very upset by this tale of her nightmare. How dare bealzebab try to attack her like that; it was tactless, and under Gold's own roof! He would definitely be calling forth that tricky devil and have an exchange of strong words. All these thoughts made him forget to savor the moment, and he only realized this as Belle pulled out of the hug to wipe away her tears. Gold let her go, looking at the saddened girl.

"How would you like a cup of tea?" he tried to lend her a kind smile, and she nodded her head,

"I would like that."

"Great."

The kettle was put on the stove and Gold set up two nice mugs ready and waiting. When the water was done he added the tea and let it steep for a few minutes before pouring it out. When Gold set the kettle back down, he asked, "How do you like your tea?"

Belle looked down at the cup infront of her, the brown color able to be seen against the white of the ceramic. She thought about it and shrugged, "I don't know."

"Oh, alright" he was a bit sad that she didn't know how she took her tea; it had been two years and she still hadn't realized how she liked her earl grey.

"I liked it the way you made it for me, when I was upstairs."

Mr. Gold turned around and smiled at her, "I can make it like that for you." He went in to the cupboard and refrigerator to get some milk and honey, adding it for it though he let her stir it. As she sipped her tea, her finger slid in to a small chip on the side of the cup. She didn't think much about it, smooth skin rubbing over rough ceramic that was exposed, the gloss on the top having come off. Mr. Gold waited to see if her memory was triggered, but nothing happened. And Belle was glad to have some assistance that wasn't forced on her. For the past two years she had been completely lost, not even knowing who she was or what her own personality was like. People had tried to help her but they forced her in to homeless shelters or analyzed her wrong; one time she was even forced in to the psych ward but she escaped with the help of one of the other patients. It had been tough spending every day and night on the streets, looking for something, some kind of purpose.

Mr. Gold then sat down at the kitchen island and told Belle about the town, the different people in it and the places to go. He told her she had a father, and all she did was listen. The tea was delicious, and an hour later Belle was ready to go back to bed.

"I think I'm ready to go back to sleep," she siad as she put down the empty mug.

Mr. Gold nodded, "Alright, perhaps that's for the best."

"Thank you for the tea though," Belle said as she slid off the barstool.

"It's no problem," Belle began to walk out of the kitchen as Mr. Gold stood up to put the mugs in the sink.

"Belle," he spoke up and she turned,

"Yes?" she said on bated breath.

"If you need anything..."

Belle smiled with a satisfaction of knowing he meant every word, "Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

The familiar ding of the bell got Mr. Gold's attention as he looked up to see Belle enter the shop. She had a suitcase in hand with her purse on one arm and looked out of breath. He perked up,

"Hello there,"

"Hi," she said a slightly relieved tone. But now that she was here, she wans't sure what to do. Why had she come here anyways, did she really expect him to give her a job? This was a stupid idea she told herself, she should just go back to her fathers house. "How can I help you?" Gold inquired,

Belle set down her suitcase on the floor, standing just inside the door. "I, I need a job." When the words came out, she realized they sounded much less convincing than they had sounded in her head on her walk to the antique shop.

"Is that so?" Gold tossed his head to the side slightly.

Belle nodded.

"Well unfortunately I'm not hiring right now, but if a position becomes available I can let you know." He rattled off these words as if he said them all the time.

"Please" was all Belle said as she stepped forward in to the middle of the shop, "I just," she let out a faint sigh, "I just need a job." She clasped her hands together infront of her, her eyes pleading with him.

Gold looked at her and wanted to tell her no but she looked so sincere at that moment. He thrumbed the tips of his fingers on the top of the glass case that he stood behind, and nodded his head once, "Alright, you can work for me but it would have to be under one condition."

Belle perked up, a smile crossing her face, "Anything," she said in an excited tone, eyes lighting up.

"When its raining or snowy out, you have to take your jacket off and shake it out before you enter my store."

She nodded and it was the first time Mr. Gold had heard her laugh. Belle rocked on her heels, "I can do that."

"And I assume you uh, you need a place to stay as well?" He eyed her suitcase then looked back at her.

Belle looked back at it and then turned back to Mr. Gold, "Um, yes... I do." she said slowly.

"I'm not in the business of renting out rooms in my house." He said sternly,

"I understand," she had known that was stretching it too far, and she could probably stay at Granny's inn now that she had a job.

"However, there's a room upstairs if you'd like. I can uh, deduct the rent from your pay, which would be easiest."

"I'd like that, yes, that would be perfect."

"Alright, follow me then." He turned to go down the back hallway and she picked up her bag and followed him. As they walked, he talked,

"This over here is the back office where I keep the books, and the room down here to the right is my workshop."

At the end of the small hallway was a spiral staircase. Mr. Gold hadn't walked up the staircase in quite some time, but he managed with relative ease and Belle followed him. Once at the top of the stairs, there was a small landing with a small room inside the door. The ceiling was slanted on both sides since the room was on the second floor, and you could just barely stand up straight in the center of the room but you would have to be under 6 feet. There was a plain twin bed with a bedside table and lamp, with plain white paint on the walls and an old, unpolished wood floor. It was plain and simple with a window that didn't open at the opposite side of the door, but Belle knew it was completely her own. She set down her suitcase inside the room,

"It's not much, but it'll do the trick for you."

"It's perfect. This is," she turned to Mr. Gold, "This is so nice of you, thank you so much Mr. Gold."

He smiled at her, "I'm glad you like it." He then turned, to descend the stairs, "If you'd like to start right away, I can draw up some paperwork."

"That would be great," she set down her purse, having a feeling that it was safe upstairs. She took one last look at her plain little room before descending the stairs, excited to start her new life.


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of water through pipes awoke him. Mr. Gold looked over at his clock to read that it said 7:15am. The sound was of the hot water traveling to Belle's shower, the first one she'd had since she had arrived. He laid in bed for a few more minutes, thinking about what to say to her when he saw her. How did he ease her in to everything about her life that happened prior to her disappearance, and how did he tell her who she was and who she had been, and all that had happened between them. He wasn't sure but he sat up in bed and then began to get ready for the day.

* * *

Belle took a very long shower, and by the time she was done Mr. Gold was already downstairs eating some oatmeal and sipping tea as per his usual. Belle found clothes upstairs that were a little loose on her, but she assumed they would have fit her before she had been left homeless and confused on the streets. She slipped on a pair of blue heels to match her skirt before she went downstairs. Mr. Gold heard her making her way down the stairs but didn't look up from reading the morning paper. Well, it was more like skimming since he never really cared for the news but it was delivered every morning to his door, so he figured he might as well read it.

"Morning," he heard Belle say and he looked up to see her standing there in the clothes he had kept of hers, though they were definitely slightly to big for her. Or rather, she was too small for them.

"Good morning, Belle." He had wanted to say those words for quite some time now. Belle walked over and slid on to the barstool at the island in the kitchen next to Mr. Gold and then he spoke up again, "It's good to see you out and about."

Belle smiled her shy, charming smile with her eyes betraying her happiness as she tilted her head, "It's good to be up and about."

Gold smiled back at her, "Well, I have some errands to do and, I don't know what your plans were for today..." he slightly trailed off.

"Actually, I was thinking of going in to town. Maybe get some breakfast there?"

Gold liked that idea, he felt like he was keeping her locked in this house, like how he had locked her in the dungeons all that time ago.

"I recmomend you go to Grannys, they make a good breakfast."

Belle poured herself a cup of tea, taking out cream and honey from where Gold had taken them from the evening prior. She sat down next to Gold, and he was glad she was back in town and especially inside his home. "Before you venture out Belle, I have to tell you something."

"Mmhmm?" she muttered as she blew on her cup.

"Before you, uh, left, we were uh," he paused, "Well we were-"

"I know" she cut him off.

"You do?" He looked at her with wide eyes.

She smiled and looked up from the cup as she placed it on the granite countertop. "I may have lost my memory, but I'm not stupid. The clothes upstairs... the fact that you know how I take my tea, I know." After that they sat mostly in silence, though Gold was glad that she knew they had been together rather than hearing that from somebody else and being shocked to hear it.

Belle made her way to Granny's which was only 4 stores over. She entered the 50's style diner shyly, looking around. A few people looked up, and those who were there with others nudged their friends to get their attention. Her hands clasped together, Belle made her way to the bar stools and slid on to one. Red turned around and a big grin crossed her face,

"Hey there stranger," she teased and leaned on the counter.

Belle furrowed her brow and looked at Red, "Do I, did I know you?"

"Yeah," she tilted her head, "So it's true then? You can't remember anything?"

Belle shook her head, hands delicately folded in her lap.

"Oh well," she leaned in closer, "We were good friends" and then leaned back. Red's friendly nature and genuine congeniality shone through even to Belle who had no memory of her friend. Despite not remembering her, Belle trusted Red's word that they were friends. "So what can I do ya for? You used to love the hashbrowns," Red took out her paper and pencil even though she most likely wouldn't need it.

"Um, do you have," she paused, thinking, "do you have fruit?"

"Fruit?" cut in Gran. Belle and Red looked over with straight faces at Gran, who was standing off to the side wiping down menu's, "Look at you, skin and bones. You need more than fruit, honey."

Belle couldn't help but smile at Gran's concern, "You know, fruit was hard to come by the past," she paused and gulped, "two years. I would like some fruit."

"Suit yourself," said Gran slightly snidely, though she only meant the best.

"Coming right up," chimed in Red who went off to put the order in to the kitchen. She then came back and leaned on the table to make chit chat with Belle,

"So, what's it like, being back? I mean, staying with... well, you know."

"It's fine, Mr. Gold has been very nice."

Just then the door to the diner opened and Belle's father stepped in, having received a call from Grumpy that Belle was in the Diner.

"You know you two were like a..." she trailed off as she saw Belle's father step in to the diner.

Belle only nodded but when Red didn't finish her sentence, she followed Red's eyes to see a balding, slightly overweight man standing there staring at her. She stood up, having a feeling of who he was.

"Belle," he said exhasperatedly and ran to her. He pulled her in to an unwanted hug, stinking up Belle's sweet air with the smell of cheap scotch and cigarettes. She didn't hug him back, and when he finally let go he took her hands in his. "You came back,"

"I, I'm sorry but do I," she paused, "Do I know you?"

"You, yeah, I'm your father. You know me Belle..." he looked at her bewilderdly. How could she forget her own father? "Oh, you are." she slid her hands out of his, "I don't remember, um, sorry."

"Don't...? But I'm your father Belle, how could you not remember?"

"I don't know, I can't remember, really anything."

He was breathing heavily in bewilderment. He blamed it on Mr. Gold; he was the last one to have seen Belle before she disappeared. David figured Gold must have given her a potion of some sort or cast a spell on her, that was what he did after all.

"Well, well no matter, come on home" he grabbed her hand and tried to pull her out of the cafe, "And we'll see if we can-"

"No," Belle pulled her hand from his, "I dont want to go with you" she said quietly, realizing everybody in the cafe was staring at them.

"What are you talking about? Of course you want to come with me, you're my daughter, my Belle." He grabbed her hand again and this time held on tighter,

"No, I don't want to go with you,"

"Don't be silly Belle,"

She began to struggle against him and Charming stood up, "David, she doesn't want to go with you." He walked over to the two who were infront of the door now.

"You stay out of this Charming!" he barked at Prince Charming, keeping a tight grip on Belles wrist.

"If she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to go." But David pushed the door open to the cafe and pulled Belle out, and she struggled against him down the stairs.

"No, let me go!" she shouted.

"You're coming home with me Belle and that's final!" He shouted. He was angry and confused, and very, very alone.

But Charming followed them out and broke David's near-death grip. "This is none of your business Charming!" he shouted and Belle began to back away, Ruby having followed them out and she was there to wrap an arm around Belle for comfort. Belle rubbed her wrist which would surely bruise as she backed away,

"David calm down or I'll have to call the Sherrif."

"Call the Sheriff on Gold! He's the one who did this, he's the one who made her lose her memory" he began shouting as Charming backed him up, putting further distance between the father and daughter.

"You have no proof of that David, he's pro-"

"What do you know about it!?" David shouted as he shoved Charming. But Charming was fast and brought the overweight and slow David to the ground, pinning his arms behind his back as the Sheriff's car pulled up to the curb.

The shouting and struggling continued as Charming and Emma put David in the back of the police car, slamming the door behind him.

"Thanks for helping out," Emma said to Prince Charming.

He let out an exhasperated breath, "It's no problem, none at all." Many of the people who were in the cafe had now come out and Snow walked to Charming as she always did with a look of concern on her face.

"Are you alright there Belle?" asked Emma as she walked over to where Belle and Red stood.

"Yeah, yeah I'm alright." She was still rubbing her wrist gently.

"You don't look alright? You want to have that looked at?"

"No, I think it's just bruised."

"Are you sure, cause I can take you to the hospital."

"I'm sure," she said reassuringly.

"Alright. And just to ask a few questions, do you want to press charges?"

"Press... press charges? No, why would I?"

"Well he did assault you."

"No I don't want to press charges," she said, sounding extremely offended.

"Okay, okay, I have to ask anyways just in case."

Emma left with David in the back seat and people resumed their dining, and when Belle re-entered the cafe there was a small bowl of fruit waiting for her at the seat where she had been before David had enered the cafe.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been two weeks since Belle had moved out of her fathers' home. She was having a good time in her new apartment, even if it was just 1 room with a small bathroom. She had even been able to buy some decorative blankets for he bed and a small stool to sit on; a bigger chair would cost more and the stool was sufficient for now. She was downstairs polishing some (insert something from list) with a special polish that gold kept behind the cash register. Gold was in the back room working on a very old and intricate Chameleon Arch watch. The shop had become Belles sanctuary with its still air that was slightly stuffy yet smelled of dust and the stories of thousands of trinkets. Just then, the bell to the shop sounded as the door opened and Belle looked up.

Her father, David, stepped in to the shop, his work hat in hand as he entered the store sheepishly. Belle tensed. The door closed behind him and he stood there for a moment, looking around. He couldn't find the right words to say; to yell at her or speak quietly to her. But it was Belle who broke the silence,

"Can I help you?"

David licked his lips nervously, "Uh, no. I just," he paused, "wanted to see how you're doing."

"Oh," she said quietly, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"You're, you're doing well?" he asked.

"Mmhmm" was all Belle replied.

Just then Mr. Gold came out from his small workshop, preceeded by the sound of his cane gently pressing on the floor with each step. He came round the corner,

"David," he nodded his head to the balding man who nodded back, then he turned his gaze to Belle, "Is everything okay here?"

"Yeah, it's fine." she tried to reassure Gold, smiling a fake smile. He didn't want to insert himself in to their families dirty laundry, so he nodded his head and went back the few feet to his workshop.

"So, you're enjoy it?" David asked, "Living on your own?"

Belle could feel the cool pend in her hand, though the metal of it clip was warming up under her grip. "I'm enjoying it a lot."

"So you don't wanna come home, do you?" he sounded sad, almost pathetic in his sheepish tone.

Belle shook her head as she thought about it for only a second, "No, I don't."

"Oh," he let his eyes get downcast. That hadn't been the answer he had been hoping for. "Alright." He turned and left the store. It was a strange moment when Belle released the pen in her hand, finally breathing. She hadn't been sure what he was going to do. Just as she was thinking over her interaction with her father, she heard the faint squeaking of the chair in Mr. Gold's workshop as he sat back down. Belle realized he had been standing and listening the whole time. She didn't pin him for an ease dropper, yet he had listened in on their conversation and that slightly annoyed Belle.

In the other room, Gold got back to polishing a (insert something from list). He was glad with how things had ended, how David hadn't gone in to an angry rage. That was why Gold had stood just behind the door, breath warm on the old wood of the doorframe, gripping cane in hand tightly. The gold handle had warmed from the heat in his hand, feeling the adrenaline that both gave him energy and an almost psychopathically calm demeanor. He knew every part of his store, and had been read to side step the Argyle Statue and get between Belle and her father should he have come around the glass display case. He tried to tell himself it was just because he was being a good man and playing by the rules of this world, and that the real Rumpelstiltskin would have only gotten in the way to save his precious things and not to save the life of a stupid human. He tried.


End file.
